


Fringe Science

by Honorificabilitudinitatibus



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Fringe (TV), Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fringe Fusion, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universes, And Lots of It, Angst and Humor, Arya & Rhaegar are science pals, Arya plays the role that Astrid Farnsworth deserved to have, BAMF Sansa Stark, Body Horror, Con Man Jon Snow, F/M, FBI Agent Sansa Stark, Fluff and Angst, Found Family Feels, Humor, In which Rhaegar is Walter Bishop, Jon and Sansa Are Not Related, LSD, Mad Science, Mad Scientists, Massive Dynamic, Psychological Trauma, Psychotropic Drugs, Science Fiction, Unethical Human Experimentation, fringe au, probably unrealistic depictions of wild science and technology, questionable medical ethics, she was such an underrated character and it makes me sad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-23
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2020-09-24 14:04:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20359741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Honorificabilitudinitatibus/pseuds/Honorificabilitudinitatibus
Summary: “Dr. Targaryen- can you make me a list of everything you’ll need for the lab?”“Oh, certainly, Agent Stark.” Rhaegar nods, bobbing his head up and down. “I’ll need a mass spectrometer, 2,000 pounds of silicon, at least five anonymous blood samples- oh- and one more thing as well.”“Oh,herewe go.” Jon mutters, rolling his eyes.“A two year Bos taurus.” Rhaegar mutters, definitively, grinning like a child on Halloween.“A what?” Sansa frowns. Jon's expression tells her she's not going to like the answer.-Dany freezes when she walks into the lab a few hours later, turning to Sansa with a disbelieving expression on her face.“Is that a fuckingcow?”“His name is Gene.” Arya drawls, with a mouthful of Chinese food.Sansa just sighs.-A Fringe AU, where our favorite characters from Westeros investigate strange, scientific occurrences for the FBI's Fringe Division. Because sometimes a family is four FBI agents, anactualmad scientist, his brilliant con artist son, and their cow.





	1. Flight 627

“Special Agent Sansa Stark, FBI.”

Sansa flashes her badge, driving past onto the airstrip when the gate agent nods. Outwardly, nothing looks wrong with the plane. Dany walks towards her, nodding in greeting.

“What’ve we got?” Sansa asks, over the buzz of the other agents. There must be at least four different agencies here- apparently it’s big.

“Flight 627 from Hamberg, Germany.” Dany tells her, looking uncharacteristically serious. "Martell is running point."

Dany Targaryen had been Sansa’s mentor and friend since she started with the bureau- and Sansa was very familiar with her normal snark and sarcasm. If that was missing, it must be bad.

“Air traffic control didn’t hear anything when it came in- the plane was completely radio silent. President authorized a few F-18’s to fly it in- none of them saw any signs of life, but somehow, the plane landed right on time.” She smirked. “Unlike every flight I’ve ever taken.”

Her sense of humor wasn’t completely gone, then- that was promising. Sansa and Dany looked up as a blonde man- her partner, Harry Hardyng- slammed the door of an SUV shut behind him, finishing up a phone call.

“-yeah, and we’d be happy to treat you like family too!” he snapped at whoever he was talking to, hanging up and shoving his cell phone in his pocket. “Transport Board likes to think they’re on our level.” He told them, in explanation. “Agent Targaryen. Agent Stark.” He nodded at the two women.

Sansa thought of earlier- the two of them in the motel room where the rest of the world had melted away- and hoped like hell she wasn’t blushing.

“Nice of you to join us, Hardying.” Dany muttered, turning away. “We’ve got spatters on the windows, and the CDC is sending their own people out here to look at this as well.”

“How bad?” Sansa asked.

“Whatever it was, it made Agent Oakheart lose his lunch just by looking through the window.” Dany told them, a hint of amusement in her voice.

“Always fun.” Sansa muttered, following the two of them as they headed towards the growing crowd of agents.

* * *

Harassing Colonel Oberyn Martell into letting Sansa onto the plane along with Dany and Harry had been a pain, and getting into the hazmat suits was even less fun- despite it being what they had wanted in the first place. All petty complaints disappeared from Sansa’s thoughts the instant they stepped on the plane, though.

It was full of ghosts.

Where there once had been living, breathing people, there were only fragments left. Skeletons, with the flesh melted off of them onto the floor of the aircraft, rested in most of the seats. Even more horrifying were the bodies that were mostly in one piece- their organs barely held in place by skin that was almost completely transparent. Sansa stepped on something that squished, and swore quietly.

“I wouldn’t look down if I were you.” Dany advised. Sansa swallowed, nodding as they continued to observe the gruesome scene.

“Throwing up inside of a hazmat suit really wasn’t on my to-do list for the day.” Harry muttered. Sansa silently concurred. The only thing keeping her from vomiting at the scene was the thought that it wouldn’t help anything. That it wouldn’t be productive- wouldn’t help get any sort of justice for the almost two hundred passengers that had died brutal and tragic deaths.

* * *

“He just wants me out here because he hates the Baratheon family, and I made the _stupid_ mistake of getting mixed up with them.” Sansa tells her partner through gritted teeth as she and Harry check the storage units out. Martell had sent them to track down one of the men that had shown up at the airstrip instead of doing any _actual _work; it was a wild-goose chase, at best. “Stupid, egotistical asshole- If he thought that I actually _wanted _anything to do with Joffrey-“

“He’s just jealous.” Harry cut her off, grinning widely. “Trust me- you’re much younger and considerably smarter- way prettier than him for _sure_.”

Sansa smiled, turning to face him.

“What?” Harry asked, frowning.

“You told me you loved me.” She told him. “Back in the motel room.”

“Well, you didn’t exactly give me a response.” Harry raises his brow. “So I thought I would let it go- not make a thing of it?” He looks almost unsure, and Sansa wants to kiss him right there.

“I’m not good at this.” Sansa shakes her head, still grinning like a teenager with a crush. “It was- I mean, you saying you loved me- that’s kind of a big deal, right?” she rushes ahead. “I’m not good at this kind of thing- I mean, I’ve had some bad past experiences, and it’s been tricky for me.” She looks up, smile wide. “But I just- I wanted to tell you that I love you too.”

Harry’s grin lights his face up like the sun, and his kisses taste sweeter than anything Sansa’s ever known.

“You think Dany knows about us?” Sansa asks, when they pull apart, both with stupid smiles on their faces. Harry snorts.

“If Targaryen thought for one second that you and I were an item, San, she’d have my ass transferred to another unit faster than you could _blink._”

“Why only you?” Sansa’s mouth quirks.

“Because she likes you _much _better than she likes me.” Harry smirked, kissing her again. “Like I said- you’re the smart one. Pretty, too.”

Sansa would kick him for that remark, but she’s too busy smiling into his kisses.

* * *

When they find ammonia tanks, it leads them to a storage unit filled with stuff straight out of a bad sci-fi movie (the kind Sansa watches with her sister and pretends not to enjoy). When they actually find the man in the SUV from the airstrip, Sansa’s shocked as hell, but determined to wipe the smug grin off Oberyn Martell’s face by catching the bastard, and so she runs like crazy after him. 

But even with Sansa’s height, Harry manages to get ahead of her in their chase, and she barely sees their suspect pull out a phone and start dialing something when Harry corners him.

“HARRY!” she screams, trying to alert him. He turns to face her, confusion on his face, and then- as Sansa watches, helplessly- the world is engulfed in flames.

* * *

When the explosion hits Sansa, she’s thrown back by the blast- hard enough that her ears ring for nearly an hour after she wakes up. She may have a concussion- she doesn’t know, and doesn’t particularly care. She’s not nauseous, so she gets up from her hospital bed as soon as she can, and asks if she can see Harry.

“Agent Hardyng wasn’t as lucky as you.” The doctor tells her, and Sansa’s heart nearly stops. “He was hit with some sort of synthetic toxin that we can’t identify- we’ve never seen anything like it.”

But Sansa has. Harry’s skin is thin and clear, like a glossy coating, and Sansa can tell that his tissue is decaying rapidly. The steady pulse of a heart monitor is all that keeps Sansa on her feet- the reminder that Harry is still alive. For now. She thinks of the passengers on flight 627, and has to take a few deep breaths so that she doesn’t lose her lunch.

She takes her breaths, and then she takes a car back to the FBI building, and there, she loses herself in research.

She can’t let him die. Not now.

* * *

“I found a link between Agent Scott and Flight 627.” Sansa rushes to explain- an unimpressed Oberyn Martell glaring at her interruption. It was the middle of the night, and there wasn’t a single other agent there to hear them. “You’re not gonna like it, but please hear me out. Dr. Rhaegar Targaryen-“

“You’re right.” Oberyn snaps. “I don’t like it.”

“But sir- he’s been working for the government for decades.” Sansa pleads. “An area called ‘fringe’ science- he’s been involved in several studies and projects similar to what we’ve seen in the flight and with Agent Hardyng. Sir- he may be the only person alive who can tell us what killed all of those people- and he may be the only person alive who can save one of our agents-“

“Let me save you the trouble, Agent Stark.” Oberyn snapped. “I’m well aware of who Rhaegar Targaryen is.” He turns and fixes Sansa with an intense look. “If he hadn’t been institutionalized for the last seventeen years, I’d have killed him myself for the way he treated my sister. I’m sure you read about it- it was pretty damn public the way he ran off with a college student and left Elia with nothing.”

“Sir- I’m sorry about your sister.” Sansa tells him, meaning every word, but absolutely willing to say whatever she needed to in order to save Harry. “I understand- and you have a right to be angry with him. I’d hunt someone to the ends of the earth if they came after my sister.” Oberyn raised a brow, but looked more amused at her statement than anything, so Sansa continued. “But regardless of how awful of a person Rhaegar Targaryen may be, he’s still one of the only people in the world that may be able to figure this out before the people behind this try to do it again.” She knew she was pleading, but couldn’t bring herself to care. “Please- Agent Martell- people could be in danger.”

_Harry could die. _

Oberyn Martell sighs, rubbing his forehead.

“You need a family member to authorize your visits.” He told her, and Sansa tried not to let the hope swell too much in her chest. “I can’t help you with that- you’re going to have to talk to Agent Targaryen about her brother, and I can’t imagine she’ll be of much help.”

“If I manage to get Rhaegar out, will I have you backing me up to the rest of the department?” Sansa asks. She knows Dany will help her, after all.

“You have my word.”

* * *

“I can’t do it.” Dany shakes her head, disgust written on her features. “You’re going to need his next of kin to get him out, and that isn’t me.”

“Surely you can-“ Sansa starts, immediately to be cut off by Daenerys.

“I haven’t spoken to Rhaegar since the bastard walked out on his family to run off with an almost _criminally _younger woman.” Dany all but snaps. Her tone softens a bit as she looks at Sansa. “But I do know where you can find his son.”

* * *

“He has an IQ of 190 and no sense of decency.” Dany had explained, reviewing the files with Sansa before she flew to the middle east. “He’s working as a civilian contractor out of Baghdad- a con man of sorts. He’s made a name for himself, certainly.”

“You’ve kept tabs on him?” Sansa asked.

“I don’t need any additional family shit messing up my career.” Dany muttered. “After Rhaegar, I kept track of him to see what kind of a liability he might end up being. He’s got one hell of a resume, I’ll give him that. Faked his way through MIT, even taught chemistry there at one point before the department head realized his credentials were fake. He published a few papers the same way- and he’s done everything from pilot helicopters to move money in Iraq.”

“Sounds like an interesting guy.” Sansa commented, picking up the photo Dany had.

“He sounds like all the worst aspects of Rhaegar and that college student.” Dany muttered. “Lyanna Snow, I think.”

“What happened to her?” Sansa frowned. “Rhaegar’s file doesn’t mention her at all, and she’s not on the visitor lists.”

“She committed suicide-” Dany pressed her lips together, “-about seven years ago. I didn’t know her well- hell- I didn’t ever really know _Rhaegar _well, but whatever he did to drive her to that-“ she broke off, shaking her head. “She didn’t deserve what my brother did to her in the end- the manslaughter conviction after the lab fire and his institutionalization.”

“I’m not sure anyone deserves that.” Sansa told her. Dany nodded silently, giving her a thin smile and clapping Sansa on the shoulder. Sansa took the file she handed her, looking at the picture on the outside.

He was intense- dark in the eyes, where Sansa was used to the way Dany’s would flash a vivid violet whenever she got worked up. If Sansa hadn’t been so worried about Harry that her hands were shaking as she drove to the airport, she might even have thought that Jon Snow was attractive.

* * *

Sansa finds him in a relatively upscale hotel in Baghdad, and catches him off guard.

“Jon Snow?” she asks. He nods, giving her a subtle once-over. “Sansa Stark, FBI.” His eyes widened, and he looked like he was about to bolt. Doesn’t matter if he does. She’s got guys on every exit out of this place. If Jon wants to leave, he’s either doing it with her, or not at all. “You’ve heard about flight 627?”

He relaxes, slightly, and nods.

“Yeah, the, uh, flight out of Hamburg?”

“Yes.” Sansa nods. “We think you may be able to assist us with our investigation, and save some lives in the process, Mr. Snow.”

“You have the wrong guy.” Jon scoffs, moving to walk away.

“Your father is Rhaegar Targaryen.” Sansa catches up to him, blocking his escape.

“Generally, people say that as an accusation.” Jon mutters, sarcastically.

“We need to speak with him, and you’re listed as his next of kin.” Sansa insists, physically placing herself in front of him. “We need you to give us access to him.”

“To Rhaegar?” Jon asks, incredulously. “What possible help could you hope for from a man so batshit crazy that he’s been locked up for seventeen years?”

“We just need a few days-“

“Save your breath.” Jon mutters. “Look, I’m sorry that you wasted time on a flight out here, but I would rather stay in Iraq than see Rhaegar again.”

“Your father may be able to save people’s lives.” Sansa tells him, voice thick with emotion. “And the life of someone that I care about, deeply.”

Jon Snow could have all the daddy issues in the world, but one way or another, he was going to save Harry Hardying’s life.

“I will beg you-“

“Save your dignity for now.” Jon mutters. “Everyone has someone they care about, sweetheart. I’m sorry, but I can’t help you.”

“Well that’s a shame.” Sansa calmly tells him, ignoring the anger that bubbles up inside her at his ‘sweetheart’ comment. “Because I did my research on you, Mr. Snow. Looking through the FBI files I have that- officially?” she gives him a look. “Don’t exist. You’ve made quite a few enemies during your stay here. I suspect that if you stay, Mance Rayder might be interested to hear about it. I think the two of you are acquainted.”

Jon gives her an incredulous look.

“You’re blackmailing me? _You_?”

“That would be illegal.” Sansa raises her eyebrow at him. “But I can’t control what kinds of things the American soldiers chat about, and I can’t guarantee that Mance won’t overhear the guys that are keeping an eye on the exits for me when they talk about the American con man I’m tracking down at a bar later.” She doesn’t smile, but she meets his eyes, and doesn’t look away. “So what’s your answer, _sweetheart_?”

Jon gives her an incredulous, flat smile that looks like a threat more than anything else, but ultimately, he nods. His grin looks like she's holding a gun to his temple, and Sansa supposes that she rather is.

“When do we leave?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not going to lie- this started because I think Sophie Turner (acting as Sansa) has some similar mannerisms to Anna Torv as Olivia, and it all spiraled from there. Fringe is my absolute FAVORITE TV show, and this idea just grabbed me and wouldn't let go. 
> 
> If anyone's out of character here, it's because we're operating in a very different world, and Sansa and Jon have grown up in very different circumstances than their canon counterparts. 
> 
> Leave me a review and let me know what you think! I'm enjoying this world so far- we're going to branch off from fringe canon a bit, even though I'm staying relatively on-script for the pilot.


	2. Call Your Bluff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Sansa races against the clock to save Harry, she now has to deal with Jon Targaryen- the only person alive who can get her access to the man she needs to save her partner. Unfortunately, he's not too happy about having to see his father again after a seventeen year estrangement. 
> 
> And then there's the issue of stocking the lab for a genuine mad scientist- something that definitely wasn't covered in any of Sansa's college courses or the FBI academy curriculum.

“So why the hell do you want my father?” Jon asks her on the plane ride back to the U.S. “The most self-centered, arrogant, egotistical man in the world, and you’re convinced that he’s going to save us all from- what, some kind of terrorist attack?”

“Essentially.” Sansa tells him. “Are you familiar with your father’s work?”

“As a scientist for a toothpaste company?” Jon asks, arms crossed as he leans back in his seat. “No, not particularly.” His words have a certain bite to them, and if Sansa weren’t under an ungodly amount of stress, she would have laughed. “But somehow, I’m not sure that wintermint flavoring is what you’re after, here. Whoever you’re trying to save probably isn’t worried about their dental hygiene.”

Sansa would have found it funny if her stomach wasn’t so twisted with worry.

“You’re not wrong.” She admitted, flipping through Rhaegar’s file to hand him a page. “He worked out of a lab at Harvard for a classified U.S. military intelligence project. It allowed him the resources and funding to work on almost anything he wanted.”

Jon was examining the papers with an air of incredulity.

“And what, exactly, did my mad scientist of a father want to work on?” he asked, his tone not necessarily indicating that he wanted to know the answer.

“Primarily an area called ‘fringe science’.” Sansa explained, meeting Jon’s irritated gaze. “Genetic mutation, telepathy, invisibility, mind control-“

“Pseudoscience.” Jon interrupted.

Sansa just looked at him, tired from the flight, exhausted from nearly being blown up, and bone-tired thinking of Harry, fighting for his life back in Boston.

“I suppose,” she told him, slowly, “That depends on how successful he was.”

* * *

The institution is gray and awful, and Sansa can’t believe that a place like this is still allowed to operate. It reads more like a prison than a care facility, and Rhaegar himself does not disprove that assumption. He turns around to see her, and Sansa is immediately struck by how ragged he looks- his long white hair tangled and unkempt, with more facial hair than she’s ever seen. Jon refuses to come in with them, initially, and Sansa is too tired from fielding his protests to argue with him.

Rhaegar’s confused, but he’s certainly not stupid, and while he seems to lose his train of thought, necessitating Sansa has to snap him out of it several times, he still manages to deduce that Jon is with her, and demands to see his son before he’ll say anything else.

“Your father wants to see you.” She tells Jon, striding down the hall towards him. The look he gives her is pure malice, and she defiantly lifts her chin, refusing to be cowed.

“Thanks for that.”

“He deduced it on his own.” Sansa snaps.

“Sounds great, sweetheart.” Jon scoffs, pushing past her.

“Hey!” Sansa yells, suddenly furious. Harry was dying, the nation was at risk, and this asshole thought that it was a good time for a temper tantrum? He turns, face still stormy, and Sansa gets close enough to him that she can see the purple tint in his eyes. “Call me sweetheart again, Targaryen, and I’ll cut off your tongue and feed it to you. Got it?”

“Crystal clear.” Jon mutters, rolling his eyes and stalking back towards his father. Towards the man who Sansa is _desperately _hoping is worth all of the trouble she’s gone to.

* * *

“Hello Rhaegar.”

Sansa holds back a wince. Jon sounds as thrilled as someone normally would at a funeral.

“I thought you’d be taller.” Rhaegar says, his clouded violet eyes peering back from behind a scraggly beard and unkempt hair. Seeing him like this, seeing Jon’s aggrieved snort- maybe recruiting Rhaegar Targaryen to Fringe Division hadn’t been her best idea.

But they were here now, and there was no going back.

* * *

Rhaegar claims to need to see Harry’s body to figure out what’s wrong with him, and so Sansa bullies and blackmails Jon into agreeing to sign him out of the institution as his legal guardian. Sansa isn’t sure Oberyn even thought she would get this far, and she hopes like hell that he wasn’t counting on her to fail.

Their drive back is filled with icy silence, interspersed only with odd observations by Rhaegar and the grinding sound of Jon’s teeth as he grips his leg with enough force to leave bruises.

“Dr. Targaryen-“ Sansa begins at once point, sneaking a glimpse in the rearview mirror, “-we’re going to the hospital to see Agent Hardying, but I’d like to be able to arrange a workspace for you afterwards-“

“I have a lab.” Rhaegar mutters, staring absently out the car window. “At Harvard. My old lab there. I’ll need it back.”

“Great!” Jon exclaims, sarcastically. “Because I’m _sure _they’ve kept it in top shape for you. Wake up, for fuck’s sake- it’s probably been gone for years!”

“I need my lab.” Rhaegar insists, more firmly, and Sansa sighs, getting out of the car as they stop at a rest stop and walking a ways away to make a call as father and son continue to trade barbs. She’s going to need more than just the lab, after all- there’s no way that she can handle all of this on her own. Between Rhaegar and Jon’s strained and next to nonexistent relationship, and the way that every task Oberyn Martell sets her feels like some sort of test, Sansa’s stretched dangerously thin.

She’s trying desperately not to think of Harry, clinging to life in a hospital containment ward while she complains about babysitting a scientist.

She needs help- someone who can manage the temperamental Dr. Targaryen and the constantly irritated Jon, while not taking shit from either of them, so that Sansa can do her goddamn job. Fortunately, she knows exactly which junior agent she wants.

“Martell.” The Colonel answers.

“I need an authorization to reopen Rhaegar Targaryen’s laboratory at Harvard.” Sansa explains. “He claims that his equipment is there, and that he’ll need a few more things from us to stock it.”

“You did it.” Oberyn says, sounding half-resigned. “You got the bastard and the junior bastard.”

“I did.” Sansa challenges him. There’s silence over the line for a second before he answers.

“I’ll call the dean.” Oberyn sighs. “With any luck, I’ll be able to get you in there within the hour- unless they’ve turned it into another freshman seminar.”

“I read through Dr. Targaryen’s files.” Sansa snorts. “The classified ones, not the sanitized versions. Seems like he had some pretty nasty stuff in there- that lab was a class-action suit waiting to happen. I’d be surprised if anyone’s touched it in the last seventeen years.”

“Fair enough.” The colonel actually chuckles, before his tone turns somber. “I’ll authorize whatever Targaryen needs- I hate the bastard, but he may be our only hope for containing this thing. Was there anything else?”

“I’ll need an assistant.” Sansa tells him. “A junior agent. We need an extra pair of eyes on the Targaryens- Jon’s not inclined to assist his father at the moment, and I can’t be in two places at once.”

“I’m not going to like the next words that come out of your mouth, am I?” Oberyn asks her, his voice dry.

“Probably not, sir.” Sansa hides her smirk. Jon is still bickering with Rhaegar, and neither seemed to be listening to her. “My request is for junior agent Arya Stark.”

* * *

Sansa’s never been happier to see Dany in her life when they get to the hospital, even as Dany looks like she wants to strangle someone. Her partner nods icily at Jon, and ignores Rhaegar completely as she greets Sansa, though the doctor doesn't seem to notice her as he spots the body. Harry's body.

Sansa feels like someone’s stepped on her chest and pushed out all the air inside as she enters the containment area and sees Harry lying there, unconscious. His skin looks completely gone- she can see his teeth, his skull, his ribcage, surrounded by slowly moving organs.

“How’s he been behaving?” Dany asks, cocking her head at the two other Targaryens.

“You mean your brother?” Sansa asks, exhaustedly, “Or his son?”

Dany raises an eyebrow, looking thoroughly unimpressed.

“He’s irritating.” Sansa admits, mild hysteria rising in her voice. “And exhausting, and half mad, and he’s my only hope here.”

Dany’s expression softens a fraction.

“My brother is a lot of things-“ she told Sansa, placing a hand on her shoulder, “But he’s brilliant in a way that I’ve never seen in anyone else. You’re gonna be fine.”

Sansa watches as Rhaegar takes a sample and nearly throws a temper tantrum when Jon suggests that his lab might not be exactly as he left it.

“I hope like hell that you’re right.” She whispers, biting back a hysterical sob.

* * *

Despite Martell’s protests on the phone, Sansa nonetheless finds her sister waiting for them outside of Rhaegar’s lab on the Harvard campus, grinning from ear to ear.

“Agent Stark.” she greets, waggling her eyebrows. Jon shoots Sansa a questioning look at this, and Sansa raises a tired eyebrow at her sister.

“Junior Agent Stark.” She responds, following Arya into the building. Something like understanding and possibly amusement flashes across Jon’s face, but Rhaegar doesn’t bat an eyelash, demanding that they take him to his lab.

“Dean said they haven’t touched it since Targaryen left.” Arya tells them, unlocking the door and handing Sansa a key. “It’s dusty as hell, so I’m inclined to believe them.”

“Great.” Sansa tells her, looking around with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. There was no way that they could get this lab up to Rhaegar’s standards in time to save Harry, but she had to try. “Dr. Targaryen- can you make me a list of everything you’ll need for the lab? I’ve ordered the standard packages, but we’re glad to get you whatever else you need.”

“Oh, certainly Agent Stark.” Rhaegar nods, sounding more confident now that he’s in the lab. The scraggly beard has gone, and his hair is tied back now, and he looks like a much different man than the creature Sansa pulled out of the institution. “I’ll need a mass spectrometer and optical coherence tomograph for flesh study, 2,000 pounds of silicone-“

Sansa watches Jon’s face go from irritated to disbelieving at the list Rhaegar’s rattling off, but she’s hopeful, because this is the most focused she's ever seen Dr. Targaryen, and being back in the lab seems good for him.

“Oh- and one more thing as well.” Rhaegar exclaims, throwing up his hand enthusiastically.

“Oh _here _we go.” Jon mutters, rolling his eyes.

“A two-year-old Bos taurus.” Rhaegar tells her, grinning widely.

“A _what_?” Sansa frowns.

* * *

Dany freezes when she walks into the lab a few hours later, turning to Sansa with a disbelieving expression on her face.

“Is that a fucking _cow_?”

“His name is Gene.” Arya drawls, with a mouthful of Chinese food.

Sansa sighs.

Dany just stares, incredulous.

“That’s going to be one hell of an expense report.” she eventually mutters to Sansa.

“Believe it or not, Gene is not going to be the weirdest thing that I’m expensing the FBI for today.” Sansa tells her, tiredly.

* * *

Sansa doesn’t know who was more annoyed with Rhaegar’s request: Jon, who argued with him for twenty minutes before Sansa snapped at the both of them to cut it out, or Arya, who ended up having to walk a two-year-old cow through a Harvard hallway teeming with students.

Either way, Rhaegar has his cow and his spectrometer, and he diligently starts working, muttering things Sansa can’t even hope to understand. She puts Arya on babysitting duty, and finds a corner of the lab to sit down and review the case files, staring at the images from flight 627 until her eyes begin to water and her vision blurs.

“Coffee?” she hears someone ask, not realizing it’s Jon until she looks up to see his face, the hint of a smirk playing on his mouth.

“Thanks.” She tells him, taking the cup from him and taking a sip. Milk, sugar, and a hint of cinnamon- exactly the way she likes it. She raises her brows at him. “You talked to Arya.”

“You have a sister who’s a junior agent.” Jon shrugged. “She’s here- not sure how well the FBI likes _that_ little tidbit- but I figured I may as well take advantage. Why _is _she here?”

“I needed someone trustworthy.” Sansa shrugged.

“You don’t trust your partner?”

Sansa snorts.

“Dany has better things to do than find cows for your father or bring him coffee. She’s looking back through our case files.”

“You know, speaking of files-“ Jon begins, tilting his head as he kicks up his feet in a position that looks considerably more relaxed, “I’d really like to know what else was in that file that the FBI had on me.”

“It’s classified.” Sansa tells him immediately, on instinct. He raises an eyebrow.

“It’s about _me_, Sansa.” He tells her, clearly done with this. She winces, trying to figure out what to tell him, when his expression changes to one of resigned incredulity. “There was no file, was there?”

Sansa gives him a pleading half smile.

“I needed you here.”

“You had Daenerys-“

“Dany wouldn’t have been able to get Rhaegar out of the institution.” Sansa tells him. “So I- well- It didn’t take much to figure out that people were after you.”

“You read me.” Jon says, sounding absolutely incredulous. He ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head. “You know, that’s kind of my _thing_\- Sansa- reading people, calling their bluffs- and I didn’t see yours?”

Sansa merely shrugs, too exhausted and too emotionally worn down to gloat.

“I could have stayed in fucking Iraq.” Jon shook his head.

“Car bomb went off in Baghdad this morning.” Sansa told him, a smirk hovering on her lips. “You might owe me a thank you.”

“Oh yeah I’m _sure_-“ Jon muttered, disgustedly, before they were interrupted by Rhaegar across the lab.

“I’ve got it!” he was triumphantly shouting. “Agent Stark, Jon- I know what this is!”

* * *

Sansa’s heart plunges as Rhaegar explains that the toxin was similar to one he’d worked on with the U.S. Military in the 70’s- it’s a grim prognosis, and that only worries her more.

“And _if_ I could get ahold of a sample of the toxin- of the chemical agent causing this reaction in Agent Hardyng- it’s possible I could synthesize an antidote-“

“Don’t do that!” Jon snaps, from where he’s sitting across the room. “Don’t give her false hope, Rhaegar!”

“It isn’t false hope.” Rhaegar insists, turning back to Sansa. “If I just had a sample-“

“Yeah, well, all of the samples got blown up along with Harry.” Sansa snaps, slamming her palm down on the table as she stands up to pace. She’s sent Arya to pass along a few files to Dany, and she’s glad her sister isn’t here to see her completely lose it. “They’re all gone, and we have no idea where to find any more samples, and the only person who saw the face of the guy we were chasing was Harry, who clearly isn’t able to tell anyone anything!”

Jon’s staring at her with something akin to shock, but Sansa is focused on Rhaegar.

“How long?” she asks, teeth gritted.

“I-“

“How long does he have?”

“Depending on the rate of oxidation-“

“Rhaegar!” she hisses. She doesn’t have time for scientific conjecture right now. “_How. Long._”

“Twenty-four hours, at most.” He says, not unkindly, and Sansa’s knees go weak. She sits, arms braced on the table, hands clenching at the surface, as she takes in that information. Twenty-four hours. If she can’t figure this out in 24 hours, Harry will die. She has no leads, no possibilities- no chance.

“I am so sorry-” Rhaegar says, his eyes still vivid and piercing as Sansa tries not to drown in her own despair.

“Sansa-“ Jon begins, taking a step towards her.

“-That I can’t offer you a less dangerous solution.” Rhaegar tells her.

Sansa’s head snaps up and she immediately latches onto Rhaegar’s words.

“_What_?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love this fic so much- and I'm really excited to break away from the pilot as we go on, because there are so many possibilities in this world. I debated this for a little while, but I decided that Arya was going to play Astrid in this AU, which I think just opens up a whole world of fun- because Arya's definitely going to be more willing to humor Rhaegar than anyone else. Also, writing Jon as a bit of a dick is sort of a delightful change for me, and i'm definitely enjoying this world. 
> 
> Coming up next chapter: Sansa makes an insane, risky decision, finds out that someone has betrayed her, takes an absurd amount of homemade LSD, and meets the CEO of Massive Dynamic. Not necessarily in that order. 
> 
> (Bonus points to anyone who can guess who's heading Massive Dynamic!)
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who bookmarks, give kudos to, comments on, and subscribes to this fic. You guys are amazing, and your comments make my day. 💕


End file.
